


(in) parallel

by Phosphorite



Series: (in) paragon [1]
Category: Free!
Genre: Angst, Friendship, M/M, i roll traditional, onsens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-11
Updated: 2013-09-13
Packaged: 2017-12-26 07:59:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/963506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phosphorite/pseuds/Phosphorite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the microscopic cosmos that passes in that brief flicker of time, three things irrefutably happen: one, Gou informs them that they are visiting the nearby hot spring for her birthday, two, Haruka decides he will not go, and three, Nagisa revokes every attempt to refuse with the grin that stretches across his face.</p>
<p>In the aftermath, Haruka keeps layering fragments of happiness over the fracture that keeps festering in his heart, but at the end of the day we bury the most important things the deepest.</p>
<p>Rating for later chapter(s).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is sort of my personal semi-fix-it fic that I felt compelled to write in the aftermath of episodes 9 and 10. It was supposed to be therapeutic pwp, but then emotions happened and all of it sort of spiralled out of control. Although this fic is almost entirely from Haru's point of view, I have a companion fic planned for Rin, which means some of the things will be expanded on later to offer a more objective look on the story as a whole.

Two seconds after the words escape Gou's lips, a fire of determination lights up in Nagisa's eyes and Haruka knows he has lost.

In the microscopic cosmos that passes in that brief flicker of time, three things have irrefutably happened: one, Gou has informed them that they are all visiting the nearby hot spring for her birthday, two, Haruka has decided that he will not go, and three, Nagisa has revoked each and every attempt to refuse the offer with the wide, foreboding grin that stretches across his face. The message is loud and clear.Haruka knows that look, and knows that the argument is over before it has any chance to actually materialize.

There's a side to Haruka, nurtured by years of mental solitude, that feels the tiniest bit irate upon realizing that the universe will play yet another after school special on him. But as instinctive as that reaction feels, it is also rehearsed; to his surprise, the thought holds less venom than he had anticipated, as Nagisa's response ( _all of us will be there, don't worry Gou-chan, we wouldn't miss it for the world_ ) sinks into Haruka's consciousness and seals his protests.

Somewhere in the background, Rei makes the naïve mistake of voicing his concern over missing precious revision time, and it's to his credit that he hastily understands to interpret Nagisa's maniacal expression as _if you say another word I will end you_. Makoto just laughs, and scratches the back of his head; he wouldn't say no to Gou even if she was suggesting they hitchhike to Hokkaido and back, as long as they were all doing it together.

Haruka might wonder, distantly, why things of this sort are so painfully important to people like Nagisa or Gou, even Makoto. But as deep as his stoicism and detachment runs, he does not fault them for the passion they invest into creating memories together anymore: being dragged into other people's lives is no less troublesome than it ever was, but somewhere along the way (or, ever since that moment his lungs gasped for air and his gaze collided with his three teammates reaching for him by the edge of the lane) ...there's been an equally big side to Haruka that doesn't mind, not as much as it used to, that these people (his friends?) repeatedly pull him under.

He knows how to glide, to lean into the current, and let it carry his weight.

He knows that when he instinctively glances at Makoto, who simply returns the look with an encouraging smile, he's not alone. He can learn to do this too, slowly, and it starts with a light nod and a _yes, alright_ spoken in an unintentional monotone that nonetheless sparks a triumphant, near-relieved grin on Gou's face.

It is sort of worth it.

Perhaps it's a good sign.

 

 

 

The late Autumn afternoon on the following Saturday is crisp with promise.

On their way to the train station Makoto talks idly of practice, of outdoor springs and the regional delicacies they will get to taste. Haruka feels his mind drifting in tune with his voice, peaceful in its familiarity; the nearer they get to the station, the more he mentally prepares for the jolt of reality that comes with Nagisa's exuberance coupled with Rei's inherent neuroticism. The thought does not strike him as unpleasant, though, so much as it is simply inevitable. (It still takes Haruka a conscious effort to shift between stages of socialization and solitude, but it's an effort he's willing to make, now that he knows that the smiles of his friends and the recently occupied vacancy in his chest are somehow related.)

They arrive to find Rei, Nagisa and Gou waiting at the station, and in a single sweep Haruka registers a fourth person leaning against the wall by Gou's side.

He instinctively thinks of signs, and omens, and the faraway rustling of something he's long since buried, which makes the thoughts in his head intertwine. As they dissolve a second later, he has to virtually force his body not to tense in surprise as he glances up at Rin, whose gaze never meets his own.

Haruka can feel Makoto's energy shift, but it's only out of intuitive concern. It sort of aggravates Haruka, because one, this is not a surprise so much as a simple oversight, and two, it does not really matter. His eyes still widen and dilate, but only just; whether Makoto notices or not does not matter, either, because Makoto will always notice anyway.

"You invited Rin-chan?" Makoto speaks on Haruka's behalf, although his voice carries more honest enthusiasm than is apparent on Haruka's face. Rin doesn't entertain his question with anything more than brief eye-contact and a nod, but next to him, Gou twists at her hands and bites down on her lip.

"It's my birthday," she says, and when she speaks her voice is defensive and apologetic all at once; Haruka sort of wishes it weren't, because he cannot help but feel like both emotions are aimed at him. Rei, bless him, is even less subtle with the way his head cranes in Haruka's direction with expectant eyes, and it takes a swift jab in the ribs from Nagisa to break the contact.

"It's not like Gou-chan would be allowed on a trip alone with four male classmates," Nagisa hastily adds with a grin, his tone cheerful and upbeat. Knowing Nagisa, none of it is feigned, but the moment of impartiality is gone. Whether it's in the nonchalant concern of Makoto's posture, the mixed tone of Gou's voice, the open curiosity in Rei's gaze, or the sharp warning of Nagisa's actions, Haruka feels like a cautious energy holds him still on all sides.

He doesn't have the heart or the words to tell them that all of it is misplaced. It's not as if he has issue with Rin's presence – from where he stands, the only person who has issue with Rin being here appears to be Rin himself. His body language is part bored part sardonic, which is something Haruka has grown to expect by now, but the general greeting he tosses their way skips Haruka by a mile.

Haruka's expression holds, as it holds for the following fifteen minutes it takes for them to board the train.

Part of him wishes Rin notices this. Somehow, it feels imperative.

(His friends do, and one by one their shoulders ease in relief, thinking the worst has passed. But Rin is still not looking at him, and Haruka doesn't know what they expect him to do; so he does what he always does, which is nothing at all.)

"It's fine," Haruka tells no-one in particular, in response to a question nobody asked, and they are the only words he speaks in the two hours on the train.

 

 

 

In the forty minutes it takes to trek from the station to the hot springs, Gou regrets her decision to have a birthday bash in the middle of nowhere twice. First is when a runaway squirrel lunges at her from the woodworks, sending her sprawling face first into Makoto; second is when Nagisa eggs everyone on to race the final stretch up a steep hill. Gou's heavy panting intertwines with Rei's triumphant taunts, and for a moment Haruka finds himself distracted by the sight of Makoto chasing Nagisa in a sudden chaos of laughter and cheers.

When the sound of Gou's torment slowly comes to a halt, Haruka instinctively glances over his shoulder. The scene that unfolds takes him aback, if just for a moment: Gou's arms are wrapped around Rin's neck, forehead pressed against his back while she struggles to catch her breath; as Rin carries her piggyback up the road, there is something almost bittersweet to the sight, like a surge of nostalgia.

In the split second it takes for Rin to lift his head, his eyes catch onto Haruka's own. Something unarmed flashes across Rin's face before an unreadable expression sets in, and whether it is because he feels embarrassed to be carrying his little sister or something else, Haruka cannot say for sure.

"Hey! We're gonna win this race!" Gou yells half-panting, half-laughing, as the two of them catch up with Haruka; Rin decidedly avoids his eye again, but cannot hide the small inkling of a grin on the corner of his mouth.

A tiny part inside Haruka wants to say something, anything, to tie this moment in time lest he forget it, but he doesn't stop to think why.

 

 

 

The inn located on top of the hill is rather traditional, and upon arrival their receptionist happily tattles along for a good five minutes about the premises. Haruka's head is dizzy with indoor and outdoor hot springs, breakfast and dinner options, scenic views and the ocean, but his mind instantly clears up when the receptionist hands Gou two sets of keys and politely bows.

Of course, Nagisa's three steps ahead of him as always, and leans his head over Gou's shoulder with mischief written all over his face. "Two rooms, huh? Gou-chan's feeling adventurous!"

With a light but firm shove of her elbow to the chest, Gou pushes him off. When she turns to look up at everyone, that familiar twinge of apology flickers in her eye, but Haruka is pretty sure only he can tell. "I really wanted to invite everyone," she says, folding her arms, "But my mother told me that if I wanted to visit this exact hot spring, three rooms is too much. I got it narrowed down to two triples instead, so..."

There's a throb on the side of Haruka's head before Gou finishes her sentence, and he knows, just knows that whatever she says, he picked up on that look of apology in advance for a reason.

"Aw, but I wanna sleep with Gou-chan! I bet she snores," Nagisa fake-pouts by the time she is done allocating the rooms; Rei rolls his eyes and twists him in a headlock, while Makoto simply tilts his own head with an amused expression.

"Your mother was alright with you sharing a room with an upperclassman?"

" _And_ my brother," Gou snaps, cheeks flushing at all the things Makoto doesn't outright imply, "She–– she wasn't okay with it at first, but––"

Gou suddenly pauses, and when she speaks anew, it's as though she's divulging more than she feels comfortable with, no, more than someone else in the room feels comfortable with. (More than two of the people in the room feel comfortable with, if one of them isn't lying to themselves, and it's not always certain which one of them is.)

"'If it's Nanase-kun, I won't mind," she recites off memory, and the smile that snakes on her lips is somehow sad at the same time, "Out of everyone, I think... I think she still remembers him the best. So it's fine if I share a room with onii-chan and Haruka-senpai. She said as much."

Nagisa bites his tongue to stop himself from commenting with something that will only make Makoto stomp on his foot. The implications aren't lost on Rei either, but Haruka is grateful that he refrains from saying anything. He doesn't look at Rin, but he doesn't have to; the atmosphere in the lobby hangs thick until Gou clears his throat, and hands the second set of keys to Makoto.

"We have dinner in an hour," she lists the events of the evening, assuming her managerial role as though they were standing by the poolside at school, "Afterwards, I think the outdoor springs are available until late. Which is good, because I have a feeling mother arranged them to feed me until I pass out. It's not every day you turn seventeen."

"You can't swim with a full stomach," Nagisa whines, and Haruka is almost prone to seconding his sentiment until Makoto reminds them that hot springs aren't meant for swimming anyway; Rei appears more fascinated by the prospect of a luxurious dinner, speculating on the number of courses they'll be served, and it's with that thought in mind that Gou shoos them along to find their room.

"We should settle down and get changed," is what she says as she turns to Rin and Haruka, both of whom have remained wordless for the entire debate. With the rest of his friends gone, the hallway grows silent, and Haruka realizes he cannot disguise his feelings underneath Nagisa's incessant chatter or Makoto's gentle smiles anymore, which leaves him feeling naked in a way he hadn't expected.

 _You hide so much of yourself in the people who express themselves in your stead_ , a small voice at the back of his mind says, but Haruka shrugs it off before it has the chance to gain hold. Gou casts him a quizzical look when his deadpan expression refuses to let anything on, then sighs and heads down the hall.

Haruka stifles his urge to search for signs of life on Rin's face, and instead follows the Matsuoka siblings as they walk down the same aisle that swallowed Nagisa, Makoto and Rei.

 

 

 

Had he known about the sleeping arrangements beforehand, Haruka speculates he would have brought along an entire week's worth of belongings, just so he would have something to shuffle and rummage through in the awkward minutes that pass after they enter their room. Instead, he's only packed for a trip overnight, and 'settling in' is over within seconds after he lays his bag on the side of his futon. Afterwards, all he can do is stand there feeling lost and soak in Rin's silence, who appears to be doing his very best to feign interest in his sister's lighthearted chatter.

"I'll get changed in the bathroom," Gou says matter-of-factly, although to Haruka her statement feels as moot as it is also self-evident. There are three yukatas folded neatly on top of each futon, and when Gou presses hers to her chest, the gesture is filled with suppressed glee. It sort of reminds Haruka of all the times Gou and Nagisa have made use of every excuse to wear traditional garb, and although he doesn't quite get the obsession, the prospect does not strike him as bothersome either.

At least, the full extent of bothersome doesn't sink in until Gou is gone. As a strange tension replaces the former awkwardness between himself and Rin, Haruka realizes it is because she has taken the last remnants of neutral ground with her.

He visualizes himself taking off his clothes and changing into the yukata, and the process is simple enough in theory but proves increasingly difficult in practice. He doesn't know what stops him, because it's not about nudity; not in the presence of other people, and not in the presence of Rin. For whatever reason though, it seems Rin is the same: both of them just sort of stand there, which makes Haruka feel nothing short of juvenile. Rin's posture isn't one of challenge, but Haruka doesn't understand what's holding him back out of discomfort.

(He doesn't ask himself what's holding _him_ back, either, but he never had a reason to – he could let the others stand between the two of them as a mental barrier whilst he hid in the sidelines and merely observed, but Makoto's not here now and the thoughts that slowly inch their way under his skin feel natural and frightening all at once.)

"Onii-chan," comes the voice through the bathroom door then, "Could you look for my hair accessories? There should be two kanzashi flowers somewhere in my bag."

Gou's words snap Haruka out of his thoughts, but more importantly they also startle Rin enough to visibly make him flinch. It is with that simple gesture that Haruka realizes what he has interpreted as challenge is... nervousness, in reality, and it leaves him with a feeling he cannot quite name. Rin doesn't notice, probably; he simply swears under his breath and reaches into Gou's bag, rummaging through it with more vigor than she would probably be happy with.

"Why the hell did you pack ten tons worth of makeup," are the first words Haruka consciously registers coming out of Rin's mouth since the moment they met at the station; they are not his first words, per se, but Haruka would never admit to zoning out the things Rin idly discusses with the others. Something at the back of his mind has been drawing barricade tapes between himself and these exchanges, and he knows that he's avoiding having to ask himself why but it goes beyond what he agreed on when he consented to this trip, and therefore cannot muster up the will to feel guilty. (Not yet, anyway.)

"Why did _you_ pack your jammers," Gou replies without missing a beat, though, and the response is enough to flush Rin two shades redder in the face. The nameless feeling inside Haruka continues to grow, and he tries to swallow it down. After all, the logic of Gou's retort is perfectly sound: _it's not because I need it, but I didn't want to leave it at home in case something happened and I did_ , which is more or less the philosophy behind Haruka's own near-obsessive tendency regarding swimsuits.

The thought is... bewildering, almost, because it's only been five minutes and he's already gained more insight into Gou's character than the months he's spent listening to her complain about the stench of chlorine; five minutes, and he's witnessed an unusually helpless dent in Rin's barrier like nothing he has seen since the day Rin returned from Australia.

One Matsuoka is bad enough, two should be a nightmare. But for whatever reason, for the first time since their arrival the mild headache on the side of Haruka's face grows duller.

"Whatever," Rin mutters and desperately continues to dig through Gou's belongings, and it actually sort of makes Haruka want to laugh inwardly.

While he can try to block the feeling that spreads from his stomach to his limbs, Haruka cannot stop the warmth it sends through his nerves. The Rin before him suddenly feels... different, like something in the air has shifted and robbed them of the protective layer of indifference. There's still tension, but it's not the same; when Haruka crosses the floor in a couple soft strides, he feels in control of the atmosphere in a way he couldn't have imagined mere minutes ago.

"Here." His voice comes out softer than Haruka intended, but Rin's eyes widen all the same. Haruka pushes his hand past Rin's and reaches past the first layers of the bag, but stop halfway. His fingers curl around something satin-y, and when he pulls out two beautifully crafted hair ornaments, Rin stares at him like he's crazy.

Haruka's not, though. "The makeup is on the bottom. Gou-chan packed it first, so she wouldn't forget. Accessories are probably second. Everything else, on top. That's how we used to layer our training gear."

It's an unusually lengthy answer to a question Rin doesn't know how to articulate; _you always bury the most important things the deepest_ , is what Haruka almost adds on reflex, but the flush that deepens on Rin's face warns him against it. It sets him aback, if only for seconds, because Haruka doesn't know how he's meant to interpret Rin's expression; Rin's mouth twists into nothing short of a pained grimace, but instead of snapping at him, he only breathes out a silent _Thanks_.

It renders Haruka quiet again, and when Rin disappears into the bathroom to help Gou arrange the flowers in her hair (something he doesn't know upon entering, but is coaxed into nonetheless), Haruka gets changed in their absence. After the two resurface, Rin does too; when Haruka reverts his gaze he tells himself it's because he's following Gou's example, but the explanation crumbles by the time Gou happily compliments Rin on his appearance and Haruka still finds it hard to return his gaze.

Instead, he looks at Gou, and cannot resist the urge to halt her in front of a mirror and straighten out the flower Rin has jagged at an odd angle. From the corner of his eye he watches Rin pull his hair into a small ponytail, and something about the scene feels so broken and perfect at the same time that it twists something poignant in his chest.

By the time they set out to meet with the others, Haruka notices Rin is no longer avoiding his eyes. But the weight of the silence still hangs over them save for a few well-placed monosyllabic words like _Done?_ or _Yeah_ or _Fine_ , and the headache returns.

 

 

 

"Ah, Haru-chan! Gou-chan! I want a picture!"

Nagisa has his phone up before Haruka can even think to refuse. The sound of shutter paralyzes him momentarily, but he feels less irate than he would have presumed. Behind him, Haruka senses Rin hesitate, and as he instinctively glances over his shoulder, Haruka catches a brief, unreadable expression on Rin's face.

"Rin-chan, too," Nagisa commands once he's done documenting Gou's energetic poses, and waves a hand in their general direction. This time Rin quite positively rolls his eyes, which doesn't deter Nagisa any more than it saves Rin from having his photo snapped by a crummy cellphone camera.

In the midst of this, Haruka feels Makoto lift a hand on his arm as if to wordlessly ask _are you alright_ , to which Haruka responds with a subtle nod of his head. Before, he may have perceived Makoto's concern as oddly aggravating, but he understands what it is for now: in the rollercoaster of emotions that has passed him in the half an hour spent in Rin's presence, Haruka is slowly growing to understand that Makoto's caution is not for anything he might outwardly express, but for all the things that he does not.

A server girl ushers them into the private dining area, and pours each a small cup of tea. Nagisa's hand reaches out towards a serving of pickles in the middle of the table, but Rei swats it away with narrowed eyes. "Oh, please help yourself to starters," is what the server says, however, and goes on to explain that Mrs Matsuoka has paid for a traditional multi-course dinner. Gou's eyes light up, and she cannot resist grabbing the people next to her (Rin and Makoto, respectively) by the arm as she chimes in with a gleeful "This, this is _great!_ "

Next to Rei, Haruka stares at his tea. By the time the servers start carrying in trays of beautifully arranged food –soups, grilled fish, simmered vegetables, sashimi, hot pots– his stomach, too, is growling in spite of himself, and although he doesn't lunge over the dishes with as much fervor as Gou and Nagisa do, there's only one occasion on which Rei has to ask "are you going to eat that?" before stealing away a thinly sliced piece of grilled meat off his bowl. He doesn't care so much for the dessert, but curiously notes that both Makoto and Rin finish theirs in a matter of seconds.

"I'm dying," Gou wails by the end of their meal, and fails to roll over only on Rin's interference. As if to wind Rin up, Makoto grabs him by the wrists which gives Gou enough time to wiggle underneath the squat table, and Nagisa cheers her on while Gou loudly proclaims that _this is my nest now, and I am never coming out_. Rin's expression is two parts exasperated and one part flustered, amplified no doubt by the ease in which Makoto grins in his face without a trace of self-doubt.

A smile snakes on Haruka's lips as he watches the display, but it's tinted with a heaviness in his chest that inches its way back the second Makoto mentally leaves his side. No, that's not it–– because Makoto's still right _there_ , still linked to his every mood shift, but the ease in which he nonetheless approaches Rin and does not face rejection, leaves something hot burning in Haruka's throat. And suddenly Haruka feels, he feels _irate_ in a way he hadn't realized was scorching away at the pit of his stomach, because it's not right, it's not fair, it's not––

When Rin turns his head and locks Haruka's gaze with his own, the burning intensifies and Haruka cannot help but look away as if on cue.

He wishes he was back in that room, back in that half-tense half-natural cocoon that was his attempt to slowly re-attune himself with Rin. Here, amongst everyone else, it feels like the past overwhelms him; watching all of them laugh and argue and mess with one another is like a physical reminder that the only person cut out and denied of the friendship they once shared with Rin, is Haruka.

He knows part of his irritation towards Makoto is envy, at how easily the rest of them brush past years of memories and shrug off the ones that hurt; but it's also because another part of him feels embarrassed, of how vulnerable Haruka is when he's compelled to do the same and realizes that he cannot.

(Because he's not Makoto; not forgiveness and loyalty personified; he's not Nagisa; not hope and determination intertwined; he's not Gou; not steadfast and passionate; he's not even Rei, who never signed up for any of this, but has learnt how to adapt his strengths to survive the unknown.)

He doesn't want to think of what it means, what it might mean. Haruka's so used to disabling his sensory overload that it happens almost on accident; and when the feelings overcome him, he closes his eyes, the headache dulls and the sound of the ocean intensifies.

 

 

 

_There's so many things I wanted to tell you back then._

_Like..._

_Did you ever realize how much I hated you?_

_You were... unlike anyone I'd ever met before. You didn't take no for an answer. But most of all, you weren't afraid of me. I hated you, but you weren't afraid._

_You were so selfish. I suppose I was selfish too. But you never asked me if I wanted this, and you didn't care. You made us believe in you and then you left. You made me believe in you, and then you left._

_It's ironic, isn't it?_

_Back then you forced yourself into my life, and now there's nothing you want as much as to break out of it. You were the first person I made an exception for, and you decided it wasn't worth it._

_You were the first person I made an exception for, and then I ruined it._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I'm totally blown away by all the amazing comments I received on my first chapter – thank you so, so much for all your kind words, it means the world to me. Of course, now I'm super nervous the rest of the fic won't be up to your expectations, but here's to plunging into the unknown. So, uh, enjoy I hope!

 

"Haru-chan."

Haruka's eyes open lazily, but his vision blurs. His mouth is dry and he doesn't remember the dream, but the surface underneath him is warm. He wishes he hadn't awoken.

"....n," he mouths, and whether it's a sound or a word, even he doesn't know; as his field of vision comes into focus, he realizes it's Makoto who hovers over him in the subdued light of the room. The day outside the inn has grown old, and for a moment Haruka struggles to remember where he is and why. The next words, however, snap him back into reality.

"You're not coming to bathe? The others already went ahead."

Yes. Hot springs. The last thing Haruka remembers is wandering back to their room after dinner, and lying down just for two seconds, closing his eyes for five, and somehow between then and now it appears an hour and a half have passed. "...I had a rest," is what he speaks, voice still hoarse, and Makoto lets out a small laugh.

"You had a nap, you mean," he smiles, and extends an arm to pull Haruka off the futon, "Which is understandable, considering how much you ate. You're not used to as much food in one go. At least not as many types."

"Mhm," Haruka says, and his legs feel a bit wobbly as he regains control of them anew.

His disconnected feeling persists even after they enter the hot springs, mind wandering as they proceed through the washing area, and were it not for Makoto's abrupt warning he would stumble into an elderly man. It's not until his toes hit the water that something comes to life inside of Haruka, and the warmth that seeps into his bones reminds him of something earlier that day he is desperately trying not to think of.

"Haru-chan! Mako-chan!" comes the cheerful cry from Nagisa, who splashes his way over to them while simultaneously ignoring the glares cast his way by some of the older patrons. Rei looks somewhat vexed, but follows in suit. It's sort of unnerving to realize how easy Haruka is to read, since the thought barely has time to materialize in his head before Rei clears his throat.

"Matsuoka-kun, he... already left. I don't think he stayed for fifteen minutes."

"It's his loss," Nagisa quips, trying to sound like he doesn't mind, but it's obvious that he's displeased at Rin's decision. Makoto offers him a sympathetic shrug, while Haruka continues to say nothing at all because there is nothing to say.

It doesn't feel right, though. He leans into the warm water while listening to Nagisa rave about the dinner they had, and it turns into a contest on which of the three has tried out the most regional dishes. It's not long until their voices become a dull murmur in the distance, and Haruka feels his mind beginning to slip again. He cannot help it. It would be so easy to fall asleep. So easy to ignore the sinking feeling that there's something inside of him that wants answers, demands a release.

But he cannot stop thinking.

He thinks of Gou; somewhere, on the other side of that parting, is she lonely? As the only girl of the group, she never lets on that she feels isolated, but it's moments like this when she must do, if only for a moment, if only for the passing heartbeat it takes to realize what the other members of the club have is something they cannot ultimately share.

He thinks of Nagisa; underneath his resilience, does he ever feel disheartened? In the months he's invested into reuniting his childhood friends and making new ones, reliving the companionship he once treasured more than anything, he must have, if only for a moment, if only for those seconds it takes to register Haruka's indifference or Rin's open distrust.

He thinks of Rei; listening intently to Nagisa's exploits, does he ever feel like an outcast? Ever since he was dragged kicking and screaming into their mess of a life, he must have, if only for a moment, if only for the sinking dread that he'll never be one of them, never stop being anything but a replacement for something long lost.

He thinks of Makoto; laughing and smiling at Rei's gross exaggerations of his palate, does he ever feel like giving up? For all the ways he has spent years trying to pull people like Haruka above the surface only to watch them slip back in, he must do, if only for a moment, if only for those desolate minutes he spends guessing whether it is today that Haruka won't open the door at all.

And he thinks of Rin, Rin most of all, even when he pretends like he doesn't; and it is here that Haruka feels like part of him is drowning, because what he realizes is that they are all lonely, that they're all waiting for answers that will never ultimately surface, and that it is because of this that his feeble attempts to reconcile with Rin will never amount to anything.

Is... that what he wants? Is it what he wanted? The thought makes him feel numb, but he accepts it with slow reverie; it hurts, but he doesn't know what else to do.

He's reminded of the dream he had earlier, but the fragments refuse to connect. Instead, he looks up at the horizon, and somewhere beneath the hill the ocean glitters in dark crystals.

_We bury the most important things the deepest_ , Haruka remembers thinking, before his head sinks underneath the water and silences the world around him.

 

 

 

"Maybe we should have started a hot springs club after all," Nagisa comments later, when Haruka rests a soft drink can against his forehead by the sight-seeing deck. It's almost completely dark outside, and the stars have come out; in the light of the lanterns there is something spellbinding about the view on top of the hill.

Gou folds her arms and looks awfully smug for herself. "Nice, huh? And here's to Rei-kun who would have rather studied instead."

"Th, that's not the right context!" comes the predictable protest, and Rei resumes a thoughtful pose as his voice takes on an overly serious tone, "I will come pay my respects to your mother first thing on Monday morning."

"H, hey," Gou responds, flushing wildly, "That's not what I meant––"

"I bet you wouldn't mind if Mikoshiba-san came over to _pay his respects_ ," Nagisa teases with a leer, and Gou promptly punches him on the flat of his head.

For once, Haruka's not consciously zoning them out, but his thoughts come to a halt when he feels Makoto touch his arm like he did upon their arrival. However, from Makoto's posture Haruka knows at once that something is up, and the tone of his voice confirms this as Makoto lightly says, "Haru-chan? Can we talk?"

Haruka barely responds, but allows Makoto to pull him aside. Although it is so easy to just brush him off most of the time, it's not often that Makoto wants to _talk_ , and Haruka knows him well enough by now to treat these instances with the attention they deserve. The memory of all the times Haruka has shrugged Makoto off because of his ill moods or indifference sort of stings, but it's not something he could ever voice aloud unprompted.

Once they are out of hearing range, Makoto tilts his head. The look on his face is worried, but also mixed with a sudden kind of frustration that Haruka finds difficult to decipher. "You're not shutting off, are you?"

When Haruka does not indicate he understands the implication, Makoto gestures with his hand and adds, "...Because of Rin. All of this."

Haruka swallows, and cannot help averting his eyes. He knows Makoto means well, but there is nothing he can say, no answers he can give in return even if he wanted to. To communicate the myriad of unwanted emotions that well up inside of him at the sound of Rin's name, well... how is he supposed to even begin to unwind the tangled mess that is his past – or the reasons why he doesn't know if he should, at all?

(Not everything can be fixed. Not everything can be resolved. Makoto should know; he never once asked Haruka to change, even the times when he was causing him pain.

Makoto should know. Makoto should...)

"Because I think you're sort of being a coward."

The words jab Haruka directly in the chest, and the pain pierces him before he even registers their full weight. The feeling is unusual, and for a second Haruka thinks that something is bleeding out of his skin. But when he glances back, the expression that sets on Makoto's features is pained: it's not full of anger, but regret instead.

And Haruka realizes that Makoto _knows_ ;

(just like Haruka does,

that Makoto's willingness to serve as Haruka's shield to deflect the rest of the world has always been a blessing and a curse in disguise; that all the years he's spent by Haruka's side, easing him into reality – filled with distractions and bothersome trivialities, filled with other people– has also served to trick Haruka into believing that it is alright to live his life like this, that it is alright to hide behind Makoto's cheerful facade in the moments he is forced out of the comfortable silence of the water.)

It's not Makoto's fault, though. It's Haruka who has taken advantage of Makoto's friendship and loyalty, just as he takes advantage of the rest of his friends for allowing him to slip away amidst their feelings, the ones Haruka doesn't have the courage to commit to.

"You keep shutting off, because you think you'll hurt him," Makoto says, and there is something distant to his voice that Haruka cannot quite place, "The way you think you're hurting us. And sometimes, that's probably true. But the person making him hurt right now, it isn't you."

Haruka's eyes widen. He doesn't know how Makoto can tell, but he does.

Of course, should he ask, Makoto might tell him;

(of all the times he watched Rin glare Haruka down, only to flare out with self-righteous anger when Haruka did not so much as respond; of the times he caught Haruka staring at Rin when he wasn't looking, the weight of his disquietude holding him down; of the times he expected one of them to say something, and the times when they didn't, and how the silence kept eating away at them both until they convinced themselves there was nothing left to say.)

But they are not words they are used to trading with one another, and so Makoto holds his tongue. Instead, he tilts his head again and offers a smile full of reassurance, a smile full of hope.

_We all want you to be happy_ , it says, _but it has to be you who makes that choice_.

Haruka doesn't know how he can tell, but he does.

 

 

 

By the time Haruka gets back to their room, Gou is already fast asleep. The food and the hot springs must have knocked her out in record time, as she huddles underneath her blanket with damp red hair plastered all over the pillow.

Rin's not there, though. It's the first thing Haruka notices, even before Gou's soft snoring, and for a while he just stands there in the doorway as the light of the hallway filters in.

It's ten past eleven at night and Haruka is suddenly awake all the way to his fingertips.

The wooden floors thump-thump-thump lightly under his footsteps, echoing in the silence of the empty corridors. There's a sense of urgency that wells up from somewhere deep within him, and the longer he searches the stronger it gets.

He's been searching for so long, after all. For his answers, for a way to admit them aloud. Because there used to be void within him that he spent years practicing didn't exist, one that came undone with the light of his friends' unwavering belief; and for a long time, maybe he thought it was alright, maybe it was enough if he just kept layering fragments of happiness on top of the fracture that kept festering in the deepest ravine of his heart.

(It was always Rin who ruptured that fracture anew and reminded Haruka of its existence, which is why he always felt so _weak_ ; but he cannot stop thinking, of his own cowardice and loneliness and the sound of the ocean in his ears, and for once the thought does not make him hesitate.)

He finds Rin, eventually. It takes Haruka a while because he doesn't think to look outdoors at first. Afterwards, it makes perfect sense: from the balcony on the eastern side of the inn, the view of the ocean spreads out almost as clearly as at the sight-seeing deck. Haruka almost feels stupid for not thinking as much ahead, for imagining that he and Rin are so different in the end.

They're not, of course. Which is why the second Haruka comes into view, something in Rin tenses as he leans against the rail, and a look of suspicion dawns on his face. Rin's still in his yukata, like the rest of them, but has rolled the sleeves up to his shoulders; the hair pulled up in a ponytail looks dry, though, so he must have not gone back to the springs after they left. What he has been doing in the meantime, Haruka cannot even begin to guess.

"Hey," Haruka says, and feels oddly out of breath. He doesn't want to start the conversation with monosyllables again, but old habits die hard; as much as he tries to envelop himself in resolve, it's hard to stay calm when Rin is _right there_ , and there's a million ways this could go.

If Rin thinks of that too, it doesn't show on his face. Instead, he gives Haruka a nod of acknowledgment, and just says "Hey" in response.

It's not a rejection. It's not an outright invitation either, but it's the best Haruka can do without starting to second-guess himself. He closes the distance but leaves enough room for the unspoken heaviness to set in between them.

He opens his mouth once, twice, three times, but the words don't come out. Whether it's because he cannot say them, or because he doesn't actually know what he wants to say, it's hard to tell. After a moment or two of playing a fish on dry land, something in Rin's expression shifts in expectant annoyance and he lets out a groan.

"Oh, get on with it already," Rin says, and though his voice takes on its usual (since when did it become usual, anyway?) air of dissonance, behind it Haruka can detect something that seeps through his defense. He notices, because for once he's looking for the signs, instead of running away from them.

" _Aren't my friends awesome? Isn't my team the greatest?_ " Rin lets out a dry chuckle in the aftermath of his impersonation of Haruka, but it comes out wrong, laced with thinly veiled bitterness. "Isn't that what you came here to tell me?"

It's Haruka whose brow furrows with confusion this time. Either Rin doesn't pay attention to his bewilderment or goes on regardless, because when he continues to speak he stares into the dark, bathed in the glow of the lamps. "Newsflash, I don't care how your new life is turning out with your amazing new teammates. I don't care if you're going to go off on some tirade how I'm an asshole and you're a stronger person now or whatever. I'm only here because of Gou."

Were this one of their regular outings, surrounded by the Iwatobi or Samezuka team, Rin's words might be enough to trigger the age-old defense mechanism that lies dormant in Haruka. He'd simply lift his chin, mentally erect a wall between them, and let Rin's voice glide off his back without so much as twitching an eye. Somehow, deep down he's always known it's what aggravates Rin the most: the idea that Rin could try and reach out with everything he got, but never make it far enough to touch him. Haruka used to exploit it, the way Rin exploited his inability to bear the full force of confrontation, and as a result they both always got what they wanted and never what they needed.

But it's not the same anymore. Rin's words snake underneath his skin like they always do, but they spark no irritation or defensiveness. For the first time since the day he witnessed Rin crying in the aftermath of their race, all he feels is sadness.

"I'm not," Haruka replies, and like that moment they shared searching for kanzashi flowers, his voice comes out unexpectedly soft.

Something in Rin's expression twitches, and while it's a remnant of the same annoyance of bouncing off Haruka's walls, he can probably tell it's different – can tell his words hit the target, but fail to make Haruka recoil.

In the brief silence that passes, a thousand emotions cross Rin's face as he instinctively tenses up for a fight. Haruka fleetingly feels sorry for him. He knows he's not the easiest person to deal with, either; nine times out of ten the answers people are looking from him are the very ones he's trying to convince himself don't matter at all.

Maybe it's the one thing the two of them have most in common lately.

So it's not a surprise that when Haruka raises his hand, Rin braces himself for a strike that never lands. What Haruka grabs onto is his wrist, instead, and the vigor of his tug is enough to send Rin practically sprawling on his face. Haruka relies on Rin's reflexes to kick in, which they do, and it's partially thanks to them that Rin's feet kick into motion with relative ease when Haruka pulls him along.

"Wh–– What are you–– Haru––W, wait––" Rin chokes out instinctively while simultaneously trying to avoid dashing into rails, walls, and eventually pieces of furniture, while Haruka drags him through the inn. Caught unaware, his voice is stripped off its feigned indifference, and when it hits a higher pitch, something soars through Haruka's spine as it flashes him back to a childhood filled with mischievous, toothy smiles.

"The hell are you _doing_ ," is as coherent a sentence as Rin manages to utter by the time they're outdoors again, and all that spreads out before them is a pitch black forest. The sounds of wilderness momentarily masquerade the thumping in Haruka's ears, like a cascade of his heart; somewhere at the foot of the hill lies the ocean, and he has not thought this through any further than that.

He turns to Rin, and his grip comes loose. He won't stop Rin from leaving, not after what he has to say.

"Swim with me."

It's not a question, it's not a plea. It might sound... banal, in so many ways, and for a moment Haruka practically flinches at the truth. But it is the truth, regardless.

Maybe it's not the right time. Hell, it's definitely not the right place. But Haruka doesn't want to let go of that small kindling of fire inside him that says _now_ , before it's lost amidst the waves and gone forever. He thinks of signs, and omens again, of the charge of static electricity between his fingers and the skin on Rin's wrist that they held only seconds ago.

Rin looks confused, or lost, or both. But he doesn't look angry.

"You're crazy," Rin says, but he doesn't turn away.

 

 

 

"You're _crazy_ ," Rin says again, and he might repeat that two to three times in the time it takes for them to stumble and slide and generally slalom down the hill. He repeats it when they reach the beach, and once more for good measure (with something akin to hysterics) as the waves rush to the shore and hit their ankles. This late into the Autumn the water is far from warm, but it's little more than an afterthought, since Haruka feels his skin glowing with a warmth that comes from somewhere within.

He doesn't remember the last time he purposefully swam in anything other than a swimsuit. It's even more ironic because as Gou taunted Rin earlier that day, it's not like they didn't both pack theirs along. Nonetheless, he strips down to his underwear as he sheds off the yukata before his chest and shoulders hit the water in a single, elongated dive; the waves push back at him, but not with malice, and for a moment his senses submerge in salt and chill.

In a few, broad strokes they've left the shore, and although they consciously steer clear of the open water, it's deep enough to leave Haruka with the illusion of weightlessness. It's not until Rin catches up with him and the two of them start treading water that Rin seems to remember they're not meant to be on speaking terms; his expression goes from naturally exhilarated to something more subdued and concealed.

All the _why_ s and the _how_ s just hang there, between them, and Haruka wishes he knew how to tell Rin what he wants to hear but he's not sure if he can. If Rin wants him angry, then there's no hate left in Haruka's body; if Rin wants him defensive, he holds no ammunition to counter Rin's frustration. He's come this far but he doesn't know if it's enough, and the thought amasses darkened clouds somewhere at the recesses of his consciousness.

But Rin's words of hostility never come, either. Something holds them back now as it did in their room, and all at once Haruka remembers Rin's former nervousness, his involuntarily flushed face and the trace of a twelve-year-old in his voice. Everything about it feels to be in complete juxtaposition with the things Rin supposedly wants Haruka to believe – and it's not that the distrust and the disdain are not part of the real Rin, too, but they feel like the surface of the iceberg; just like all Haruka can see right now is Rin's expression, clouded with suspicion, while the rest of him remains shrouded in the dark water underneath.

All of his anger, all of his hurt, always there on the surface; layered for years upon everything else that Rin might have once held dear.

Haruka's eyes widen, because suddenly everything starts to make sense and he can _tell_ ;

_if we bury the most important things the deepest_

_I'll have to dive deeper to find yours_

It's the one thing, the only thing he thinks of when his arms reach out and wrap around Rin's shoulders, and the sudden change in weight pushes them both underwater. There's something altogether too natural to how Haruka's body yields against Rin's on instinct, how even through his surprise Rin's arms hasten around his back. The world around them is void of light and sound, but the deeper they sink the more Haruka feels like the barriers around him dissolve into the water, until at the very core all he can feel is the warmth of Rin's skin against his own.

It's Rin who eventually breaks the surface as the laws of physics ultimately push them back up. He does so with a loud gasp and a frenzied splash, but doesn't struggle to shrug Haruka off. In order to stop them from sinking again, Haruka braces one arm to tread water while his eyes remain fixed on Rin's. In the couple of inches of space between them, Rin's breath comes out jagged and coughing, and Haruka realizes Rin must have swallowed at least a bit of seawater in spite of himself.

"Shit, you could have warned me," Rin finally croaks out, and the look is so comical that Haruka suddenly feels like laughing again; no, the bubbles force their way up his stomach and before he can stop them, he genuinely is.

"What's so goddamn funny?" Rin snaps, but the corners of his mouth curl upwards high enough to bare sharp teeth, and as Haruka continues to laugh he does so to the sound of Rin shoving water in his face.

(Of course, this knocks them off balance again and sends them sprawling underwater, but by the time they surface they're both laughing, laughing, laughing; when Haruka disengages, Rin pushes down on his shoulder with all his weight, and when Haruka dives he grabs Rin's ankle and yanks him on his back. In the cacophony of splashes and swear words and half-hearted threats, Haruka's lost in his memories and the red-haired boy from years ago, and for a moment he cannot tell the difference between then and now.)

Nothing lasts forever though, and so; when their lungs run out of breath and the laughter slowly dies down to subdued hiccups, Haruka leans back on his two arms and just _looks_ at Rin. Stripped off his facade, the Rin before him suddenly looks weary, like something inside him is as exhausted as Haruka feels. Like he can neither disguise nor exaggerate the hurt that veils all his insults and abrasiveness, not because he wants to, but because he cannot stop it from flooding out.

In the glow of a half-clouded moon, Rin looks both vulnerable and young as he does old, but Haruka still doesn't know what to say. Eventually, as the silence drags on, Rin averts his eyes and mutters, "We should probably head back," and Haruka cannot think of anything to refute him with.

Rin is faster, this time, and hits the shore before Haruka does. As he pulls on his yukata, it sticks to his wet skin, and when the wind makes the trees rustle Haruka realizes how chilly it really is. His skin quickly breaks out in goosebumps, and the yukata does little to make him warmer. Out of the water, his temperature quickly drops, and though he instinctively thinks back at Rin's body heat, it's not an option he genuinely dares entertain again.

"You're such an idiot," Rin comments upon noticing how Haruka huddles from the cold, but there is no anger in his voice. As a matter of fact, it sounds almost... endearing, and when Haruka glances upwards at Rin, he finds an extended hand waiting for him.

"Come on. I have an idea."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder how my intention of writing pwp turned into two chapters full of introspection before the actual porn?  
> Life is full of mysteries.


	3. Chapter 3

 

It shouldn't surprise Haruka that Rin knows how to break into the outdoor section of the hot springs. Somehow it seems like something Rin would probably be knowledgeable of, if just on principle. Not that it takes much effort, anyway, since patrons aren't expected to be walking around in the middle of the night and there is little need to restrict their access.

It feels sort of blasphemous to skip pre-wash, but at the very least they shed all layers of clothing when accessing the water this time. As the warmth connects with Haruka's cool nerves, it initially feels almost unbearably hot. He lets out an instinctive whimper, but Rin snags him by the arm and hisses him to quiet down; the longer Haruka's limbs take to adjust to the sudden change in temperature again, the more he feels himself de-frosting like in a slow, languid dream.

"This is a bad idea," Haruka finds himself murmuring, and Rin lets out a snort.

"No more than yours was," he replies, and reclines against the stone wall. The moon is still half-clouded, but in the light of the hot springs it's harder to see the stars. Faint traces of steam rise from the water as the air temperature drops even lower, which makes Haruka burrow in deeper.

Rin briefly closes his eyes, and during that moment Haruka wonders whether he is supposed to hover next to him, in front of him, or ten feet to the left where the two of them would not be forced to look each other in the eye.

But then Rin's looking at him again, and the expression on his face is oddly unreadable. "Haru," is all he says, voice low, and when it connects with Haruka's heart it does something funny to it, like a leap that reverberates throughout his body.

So when Rin extends his hand, Haruka cannot not take it; the tug is less vigorous than Haruka's own from over an hour ago, but brings him almost face to face with Rin, whose expression is both calm and conflicted at the same time. When he speaks, it's like he's speaking to himself as much as he is to Haruka.

"Don't think that this means I'm not still going to kick your ass."

Haruka feels a smile tugging away at his lips. "You're lying."

The side of Rin's face twitches again, but relaxes before it can properly transform into annoyance. Instead, he takes a deep breath, like a groan that surges from somewhere very deep within his conscious self. "And how would you know, idiot?"

The response comes out before Haruka even properly registers that he has voiced his thoughts. But he hasn't stopped thinking about the words since Makoto first uttered them aloud, as if to familiarize himself with the possibility that they were true. "Because the person hurting you right now isn't me."

Rin's eyes grow wider, and in that heartbeat it takes for the meaning of Haruka's sentence to sink in, it's obvious he's battling his own polar opposites: the side that wants to punch Haruka square in the face for having the nerve to talk to him as if he _understands_ , and the side that desperately wants Haruka to understand. When neither ultimately seems to win complete hold over his emotions, Rin's cheeks grow strained with heat.

This time, it's Rin who opens his mouth to speak, once, twice, three times. Were their proximity any bigger or their surroundings any less private, he wouldn't undoubtedly fail to deliver a litany of scathing retorts to indicate just how wrong Haruka is, how stupid and self-centered he must be to think he knows anything about Rin anymore. Watching him tongue-tied for once, well, it sort of sends a jolt of courage through Haruka to know that Rin, too, is robbed of his usual pretenses; it's enough to make him calmly place his hands on Rin's chest, enough to see this dare through 'till the end.

"Get on with it, already," Haruka says, mimicking Rin's former taunt, but his voice is inquisitive instead of threatening. " _I have an amazing team. I'm doing great without you._ ...That's what you want to tell me, isn't it?"

When Rin's eyes narrow dangerously at his gamble, Haruka momentarily wonders if Rin is actually going to slug him in the face. But he should know by now, that the two of them aren't that different in the end; and so, when Rin lifts his hand and Haruka instinctively flinches to brace for a fight, Rin's fingers curl around the nape of his neck instead.

"Shut the fuck up, you loser," he mutters, something almost surrendered in his voice, before he leans their heads together and kisses Haruka.

It both catches and does not catch Haruka completely unaware. It could be so easy to say that he has been living moment to moment, never looking further into what it is that he might want or yearn for, but it would also be a lie. Because the kindling at the pit of his stomach bursts aflame into a wildfire the second Rin's lips touch his own, and Haruka knows that _this_ is it – the fracture at the recesses of his heart, it was never something he could fix, so much as weld it shut with his own searing emotions instead.

It's strange, and it's alien, and it's unfamiliar. Haruka's so used to concealing rather than revealing, that it catches him by surprise when every single fiber of his body screams to make themselves _known_. The only times that ever came close were the flashes of anger that passed him in Rin's presence, the deep-rooted frustration and annoyance he could never quite identify; it used to feel disconcerting, because it tore him out of his comfort zones and forced him to confront all the feelings that lay dormant beneath his stoic demeanor. He hated it. Absolutely hated it. (Hated Rin.)

But now the same thing is happening in reverse, and a growing, surging part of him _loves_ it; his arms hasten around Rin's shoulders as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, and although it's all sorts of clumsy and awkward and takes a while to get used to (Haruka feels like it's such a cliché that he's never actually kissed anyone before, but why would he have, when nobody ever made him unstable enough to care), but Rin doesn't seem to care any more than he does. When Rin's left hand digs into the small of his back, Haruka thinks of the ocean again and lets out a small gasp, his body suddenly feeling much warmer than the water that surrounds them.

It is with that that he also remembers they're both naked, which will make life immensely more difficult if they keep this up for long. Instinctively, Haruka pulls his head back, but the look on Rin's face grinds him to a halt: with eyes dark like wine, lips parted and softly panting and cheeks flushed, Haruka's never seen Rin like this before and it twists and unwinds everything inside him like nothing he's ever felt in his life.

He can feel the heat radiating off his own face, but that same heat is slowly traversing its way lower into his body and Haruka swallows heavily – he wishes he could conjure up the same, aloof and dry response as he treats all matters of life with, but Rin is–– Rin is like swimming, he realizes, pulling him under time and time again, and as much as he tries Haruka can never quite think straight with him involved.

"We–– I–– Ah––" come the distorted, broken words that Haruka's brain manages to string together, uncharacteristic enough in their lack of eloquence that even Rin is taken by surprise. To his credit, Rin's dumbfounded expression soon shifts into one of triumph, and though it is Haruka's gut reaction to snap at Rin for looking so pleased with himself, it's not like Haruka can really fault him for it. He's willing to bend his pride, after all, if the prize is being allowed to witness a radiance on Rin's face that he's missed, so terribly, since the days their lives took different paths against his will.

"Don't think this means I _still_ won't kick your ass," Rin breathes out, but he's smiling now; and because it seems that their entire day (their entire lives) has been filled with nothing but redundancies and endless paraphrasing until they eventually get it right, Haruka responds in sync, "You're lying."

Rin's smile stretches out as he struggles to subdue his sharp grin.

"Yeah, I probably am."

 

 

 

A treacherous voice at the back of Haruka's head (speaking in low, hushed tones that he finds himself willingly welcoming in) tells him that it is entirely fine to stay in the hot spring forever. Submerged in the warmth of the water, his skin linked to Rin's, and with Rin's lips eventually finding his neck, Haruka's not sure what the outside world possible has to offer to him in return.

The world, however, probably doesn't share that sentiment, because something suddenly lets out a loud clang in the confines of the maintenance area, and the abrupt intrusion of sound makes both of them freeze still. It snags Haruka back to reality with a harsh reminder that not only are they trespassing, but also likely desecrating a sacred site.

"We should go," he says as he disentangles Rin off himself reluctantly, "The gods of water will get mad at me."

Rin lifts a single brow as if to say _are you kidding me?_ but Haruka ignores it. It is his one moment of sanity and he'll cling onto it for his very life, because otherwise they may never make it out of here uncaught. They climb out of the water, quickly get dressed, and skulk out of the springs with enough fastidiousness to impress master detective Rei; those are the technical terms in which Haruka processes it in his head, anyway, lest his mind break into tiny clusters at the memory of Rin's touch.

The rest of the journey back, well, now that takes slightly longer. As soon as they are out of danger's way, something in Haruka's consciousness short-circuits again and he instinctively grabs at Rin's shoulders, pinning him down against the nearest wall. It's ridiculous and he knows it, but it almost feels like the more distance he puts between the two of them, the greater chance there'll be that either one of them will start to regret this – whatever this is.

As he kisses Rin for a third time, it lacks the explosiveness of their first one, but instead fills him with a peaceful glow from within. Haruka's slowly getting better at this thing, judged by the sound Rin makes at the back of his throat when Haruka finds his tongue, but it's hard to tell which one of them is more in control of the situation, if either one of them is; the second Haruka does something to gain the upper hand, Rin will do something like bury his fingers in his hips and send Haruka's mind reeling at the simplest caress.

Maybe Rin is right. Maybe he is crazy. Maybe all of this is, but he doesn't know how he's supposed to let go now that he knows how it feels like.

All things considered, they're probably being laughably chaste. For two eighteen-year-old boys, Haruka supposes most would have gotten far further than this in the time they have spent glued to one another. And it's not that he hasn't been hard since the second Rin drags a sloppy, wet trail of his tongue across the groove between his shoulder and neck, but this–– this whole _being hormonal_ thing, beyond anything that isn't simply a physiological necessity, it feels–– he's still getting used to it, learning to embrace it, and from the way Rin abstains from touching him any lower than his waist, he probably knows.

Is Rin any more experienced than he is? Somehow, the thought is oddly painful, and the twinge that flashes in his chest is tinted with a foreign jealousy. But once again, Haruka starts to pick up on the signs once he actually opens his eyes to their existence: the brief, flickering looks of hesitation on Rin's face, the tentative pause between each shift of his hands, the subdued triumph at each light moan he elicits from Haruka – Rin may not be as stoically virginal as Haruka, but he's far from a person who knows exactly what he's doing, which is a refreshing change from his general bravado. But the fact that he's trying anyway, well...

Leaning in, he places their foreheads together and lets out a long, deep breath. It's not that he doesn't want this, all of this, with enough primal need to leave him bewildered, but he also doesn't feel scared anymore if they do not go all the way, right away. Of course, the nagging doubt still lingers; in his tumultuous mood, there's a definite possibility that Rin will do a mental 180 and decide that he hates Haruka after all. But Haruka knows now, that that hate will always be laced with an emotion that pulls Rin towards him all the same, and that emotion is everything he needs to turn the tide if the time comes.

"I want to sleep with you," he says, silently, and something about the sentiment makes it difficult to look Rin directly in the eye as much as they're both thinking about it, "But not here. Not now."

Rin is silent for a moment, and Haruka cannot help traces of insecurity seeping in through the cracks of his former re-assurance. Everything about Rin is a bet, always, but it's the only game they know how to play. (Briefly, Haruka remembers wondering if that's how Rin feels about him, too.)

"Alright," Rin finally says though, and his voice is true to his words as he nudges at Haruka and tilts his head. "Sleep with me, instead?"

As Haruka nods, the final redundancy of the day makes him smile a tiny, private smile.

 

 

 

Haruka swears Gou hasn't moved an inch since he last saw her sprawled out on her futon, blissfully oblivious to the events that have transpired since. They refrain from turning on the light, but simply crawl underneath their blankets trying not to wake her up. At first, Haruka lies down on his futon and listens to the rustle of bedding as Rin noisily settles in on his own, and he feels everything and nothing all at once as his thoughts circulate wildly, trying to make sense of all the ways in which something about him has irreversibly changed tonight.

It's a lot to process, yes, but at the same time Haruka feels... a whole lot less conflicted than he supposes he should. And in many ways, it's almost frightening to think about that, to admit that deep down he _doesn't_ feel overwhelmed; maybe it's because everything about this feels natural, from the way he has witnessed Rin's eyes transforming from belligerent to needy in the span of a couple of hours, to how effortlessly Haruka has discovered the sides to himself that find it possible to yield into the all-encompassing intimacy of another person without so much as a second guess.

(No, not another person, but

just Rin,

and this impossibly irredeemably inevitable chaos of perfection that follows him everywhere he goes.)

A moment passes in the darkness of their room, the sounds of Rin's shuffling come to a halt, and Haruka remembers his promise.

He slides a hand across the floor, and where Rin grabs onto it halfway, their fingers entwine.

It's the last thing Haruka remembers before he falls asleep.

 

 

 

_There's so many things I wanted to tell you back then._

_Like..._

_Did you ever realize how much I needed you?_

_You were... the one thing pushing me forward. You didn't take no for an answer. But most of all, you wouldn't give me my answers, and you didn't relent. I needed you, but you wouldn't relent._

_I think I understand now. I suppose you understand too. Because it was never about which one of us deserved it more – we came together as a team back then, but it was us who made the choice. You made me share the water, but it was I who made that choice._

_It's ironic, isn't it?_

_I don't need you like I did before; for once I truly have people I care about, yet there's nothing I want as much as you back in my life. You were the first person I made an exception for, and we ruined it._

_But you are the person I'll continue to make an exception for, because it's worth it._

 

 

 

The following morning dawns in a daze. The half-grey, half-yellow light that filters through the shutters is like a subtle reminder of reality, baiting its breath. When Haruka's eyes flutter open, the first thing he sees is Rin, who must not have been sleeping because he stirs at the sound of Haruka's lazy "....n".

The next thing Haruka registers is an empty space where Gou's bedding lies in a messy heap.

"Gou-chan?" he breathes out, to which Rin replies with, "She's not here," and Haruka's mind gets all sorts of haphazard and blurry then on out.

Haruka is far from a morning person. Rin, decidedly, is too. But the months spent waking up at daybreak for practice mean that there's an instinct that kicks into gear the second the adrenaline hits their bodies, and the weariness that clouded Haruka's senses is gone the moment Rin pulls him against him and locks them in a tight grip. There is something urgent to the gesture, like he's been waiting for the opportunity to do so, but Haruka doesn't have the time to dwell on that thought before Rin's lips feverishly seek out his own.

Their energy is different, though. It's more in sync, like sometime during the hours of the night the restless, nervous hesitancy has mellowed down into a smoldering determination. Haruka can tell, because the weight at the bottom of his stomach feels different, too; his gestures are more focused, more intentional when his knuckles graze at Rin's abdomen as his fingers flutter across his skin. The contact breaks momentarily as Haruka's knee digs into the futon and he hunches upwards, straddling Rin's thighs; and for a few heated breaths he stays there, arms on both sides of Rin's face, listening to the sound of the ocean crashing in his ears.

It no longer submerges him in a world where only Haruka exists. With his hair fanned out and chest rising in deep, heavy breaths, there's something undeniably raw to the expression on Rin's face as he gazes up at Haruka, like a vulnerability that Rin is aware of and bringing to the surface of his own free will. It makes it harder for Haruka to breathe, somehow, because he can deal with the vitriol and the sarcasm and the malicious, snide retorts, but dealing with a Rin who doesn't blame him for all the things Haruka has spent so long blaming himself is... a novel feeling, and Haruka doesn't know if he can afford it quite yet.

But that brief flash of nakedness on Rin's features (in his eyes like his body, in all the exposed skin that Haruka has deliberately shed his yukata off of) soon paves way for a familiar glint of mischievousness that lights up in Rin's gaze. _Scared?_ is what it says, loud and clear; Haruka's eyes narrow, and the possessiveness that sets in his limbs echoes with a hunger he's not used to, but doesn't want to run from anymore either.

The following kiss is heavy, loaded with all the things Haruka wishes he could say but cannot. So he says it in gestures instead; the _you are infuriating and I have no idea why we're doing this_ , as his tongue traces the curve of Rin's jaw; the _why do you always pull me into such bothersome things_ , while he leans against his left elbow and slides his right hand down to Rin's hip; the _stop making me want this, or better yet, don't_ when his long fingers curl around Rin's cock and make him jolt in half-surprise.

He's hard against Rin's thigh already and it's not like Rin can't tell, but Haruka's decided that this isn't about him, not this time around. Because he's determined to push beyond the surface and show Rin that in the end, nothing ever changed: the two of them still parallel one another, and if they dive deep enough underneath the layers of pride and hidden memories, the loneliness that festers around the fractures of their heart will mirror each other.

And Haruka, well he doesn't want to be alone anymore;

(doesn't want Rin to be alone anymore)

and so, when Rin grips his shoulder and lets out a choked sound when Haruka's hand begins to move, there is something altogether natural to holding him, kissing the side of his face while Rin swears in his ear. It's not enough, though, not even with the way Rin buries his fingers in Haruka's hair, the pressure resounding throughout Haruka's scalp.

"Noisy," is what Haruka remarks in an almost dead-pan voice, though the flush on his cheeks is enough to belie his tone. Perhaps it's a hypocritical statement anyway, because after he shifts downwards (he cannot help leaving a flurry of kisses down Rin's abdomen as he does, because _damn_ ), it's not as if Haruka expects _less_ noise to come out through Rin's clenched teeth when he leans down his head and replaces the hand on Rin's cock with his mouth.

That assessment wouldn't be truthful, after all. No; Rin's spine positively arches like in a bodily spasm, and his fingers snag at Haruka's hair hard enough to hurt. The words that cascade off his lips are a strange combination of things Haruka understands and things he doesn't, but something about Rin's violent reaction sends a surge of primal pride through his own circuitry.

Of course it takes a moment to find the right pace, to balance his breathing and learn to use one hand to his advantage while another kneads the soft skin around Rin's pelvis, but before long Haruka feels like he can shrug off the technicalities and simply concentrate on enjoying the reactions he's capable of eliciting: the way Rin's toes curl when Haruka's tongue runs up the underside of his shaft; how his shoulders tense and relax consecutively in tune to Haruka's pace when he swallows him whole; how the sounds that pass Rin's lips come out both in tiny whimpers and lower, hearty groans while he stares at Haruka with half-lidded eyes.

It's nothing like Haruka has ever experienced either, but he feels accomplished in ways he never has before when Rin's breathing shallows, then halts completely, before his entire body shudders and lets out moan that is accompanied by digging his fingers into Haruka's collarbone. It takes Haruka aback, enough to make him unintentionally jolt back and witness as Rin comes mostly on the flat of his own stomach; afterwards, Rin's eyes just roll back in his head as he continues to let air filter through his teeth, swearing under his breath.

Haruka's fingertips are tingling, his heart is racing and his head is spinning – he feels exhilarated in a way he only ever did after a close race. The difference is that this time neither one of them cares who's won.

"Fuck, I––" Rin chokes out, pushing himself upwards anew, and his cheeks burn brighter than Haruka has ever seen before in his life. Rin lifts his gaze, and something stiffens in his expression when he looks at Haruka; almost sheepishly, he leans a hand over Haruka's chin and uses one thumb to brush something off. "It seems I'm shit at aiming even when I try."

Instead of letting Rin pull his hand back, though, Haruka's own fingers hasten around his wrist. He doesn't know the reason for half the things he does anymore, but a part of him urges him on, and Rin's eyes dilate as Haruka sucks his thumb between his lips and licks it clean.

"You are," he states dryly, and suddenly Rin's breathing goes heavy again, his arm snakes around Haruka's back and their mouths crush together with such intensity it almost catches Haruka out of breath.

There's absolutely no doubt in Haruka's mind that he would emerge out of this room without Rin exacting some kind of long-winded revenge on him in a similar manner, if it weren't for the sounds of footsteps that suddenly draw closer in the corridor. Haruka's heart skips a beat, and as though in a tacit agreement the two of them disengage at once, scrambling frantically back to their own futons; Rin lunges at his stomach, Haruka curls up on his side, and when the door slides open and Gou's head pops in, they can almost pass for dead. Something about the ordeal conjures bubbles of laughter inside Haruka.

There's a pause while Gou hovers in the doorway; she seems out of breath, but when she speaks her voice is filled with sharpness and a trace of amusement.

"Yeah, I bet you're still asleep," she says, turns on her heels and closes the door anew.

 

 

 

Haruka will later find out that all the effort they put into acting natural during breakfast is sort of wasted, because by the time Gou finishes the morning jog she'd scheduled with Rei, she's already spilled everything she knows ("I woke up and found the two of them holding hands in their sleep! Now either you're about to turn into my magical girl sidekick butterfly and I'm the princess of Neptune, or onii-chan finally got over himself and confessed to Haruka-senpai"). And if Rei knows, then Makoto and Nagisa inadvertently know too, which is why Haruka isn't just imagining it when his friends smile just a few seconds longer upon greeting him in the morning.

The breakfast is lavish enough to momentarily take Haruka's thoughts off the events of the past twenty-four hours, as surprising as that sounds; with the friendly chatter of his friends around him, and a lingering, tiny smile tattooed on Rin's lips, Haruka's not so sure why he ever thought of declining Gou's invitation to begin with.

He's not sure why he's been declining so many things in his life for so long, anyway.

He catches Makoto looking at him, and there is something good-natured and inquisitive in his eyes; Haruka feels himself blush in spite of himself, if only a little, then returns the smile. And even if it weren't for Gou, who told Rei, who told Nagisa, who told Makoto, then surely, surely there's a way that Makoto would have known anyway, if just because he's Makoto and can see right through him even the times Haruka doesn't want him to.

Makoto's smile broadens and he gives a light nod. When Haruka turns his head, he finds Rin observing the two of them, and for the blink of an eye he might think Rin looks the tiniest bit jealous. But in the next moment Makoto grins and reaches his chopsticks into Rin's bowl of fried egg, and when Rin lets out a loud protest and attacks the retreating piece of food, it's like a wordless gesture of consent has passed between the three of them that Haruka didn't know he was waiting for all this time.

It doesn't mean that when Nagisa leans over to Haruka's ear and says in his most lecherous voice possible, "so how about that hot springs club now, huh, _Haru-chan_ ," he doesn't temporarily contemplate jabbing his own chopsticks in Nagisa's eye anyway.

 

 

 

Several hours later they stand at the train station, and the sky is covered in clouds. Nagisa and Rei keep exchanging mobile photographs ("You are _not_ going to share the one you took after I finished a 5k jog," Gou warns with enough menace in her voice to make Rei press delete on instinct), Makoto and Gou discuss their upcoming training schedule, and somehow Haruka notices Rin has pulled him further apart from the rest when he huddles slightly closer; far away to not look conspicuous, close enough for his to voice go unheard by most.

"So," Rin says, and like a déjà vu of their arrival the day before, doesn't look Haruka in the eye.

"So," Haruka repeats, and his tone is not exactly sardonic but makes Rin glance up at him expectantly anyway, as if Haruka is being obtuse on purpose.

"What do we do now," Rin goes on, his frustration fueled in part by the helplessness he must feel; Haruka knows, because he feels helpless too, now that they're back in their own world and standing on the edge of having to actually make decisions that might last.

 _I don't know_ , Haruka wants to say, but it almost seems like a cop-out, no matter how true it might ring. _It's up to you_ , he could say also, but if he leaves everything in Rin's hands, there's no knowing what the idiot will do. _I want you to stay with me_ , is another, but it gets caught in his throat before he can even imagine admitting something like that aloud; it's too personal, too soon, and he wants to be sure of how he feels before he forces Rin to commit himself to anything Haruka might come to regret.

(Even though he doesn't think he would regret it, not really; but it's taken him this long to come this far and he doesn't want to ruin it. Not his friendships, not his newfound courage, not the way Rin makes him feel when the side of his mouth curls upwards and unintentionally reveals a row of sharp teeth.)

And when Haruka truly starts to think about it, the thoughts keep coming like an endless wave that hits him square in the chest:

_I want to make you laugh again. I want to make you yell at me for being an idiot, and then kiss me even if I'm not. I want to fall asleep doing homework and wake up to the sound of you telling me how ridiculously easy our coursework was, I want to sneak into the pool at Samezuka and have Mikoshiba-san reprimand us both._

_I want you to chase after Nagisa who's trying to sell your pictures to fund our swimming club. I want you to conspire with Makoto to get me to not spend half a day lying in the tub. I want you to get to know Rei, and tell him his butterfly is all wrong but help him with it anyway._

_I want to watch you win all your competitions. I want you to look for me in the crowd the first thing after you do. I want you to keep pushing me forward, I want you to keep challenging me, I want to be your parallel and I want to make you happy. I want to make you happy. I want to make you happy, because in turn that makes me happy too._

But none of the words come. In the end, Haruka feels like there's a way of letting Rin know all of this, somehow, without simply giving him all the answers. Because they might be Haruka's answers, but the ones they decide on together, well, he wants them to belong to them both.

"We'll figure it out," he says instead, and when he smiles it reaches all the way up to his eyes.

 

\- fin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this excuse for a pwp turned out a lot tamer than I originally planned, but I blame my fixation on semi-realism and the haphazard plans I have for a possible sequel (read: the gradual progression of a relationship, including the physical aspects of it). I do have a Rin POV version of this one in the works, since not only will it help fill out the gaps in this story (given that it's focalized through Haru), but also features some scenes this one doesn't.
> 
> Whether there's any actual purpose for a sequel depends on where the show decides to go in its final two unaired episodes; I might just start over with a different setting based on the final since I'm nowhere near done writing about these two idiots. For all I know I may end up writing Haru/pineapple/mackerel threesomes instead, though, so we'll see.
> 
> Either way, I thank thank thank thank everyone who's bothered reading (and especially commenting on!) this silly story of mine. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did writing it!


End file.
